


ZenoHika Week Winter 2021 - Day 5: Heart of Smoke

by Ivelia



Series: ZenoHika Week Winter 2021 [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M, ZenoHika Week (Final Fantasy XIV), ZenoHika Week Winter 2021 (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29216088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivelia/pseuds/Ivelia
Summary: This is my entry for the Day Five of ZenoHika Week Winter 2021 \o/The prompts for this are "Steampunk AU / Discovery / Vengeance" so today's protagonists are:"Steampunk Conqueror" Zenos x "My peaceful village was obliterated and I kinda do hold a grudge about it" WoL, LennThis one is heavier than a sack of bricks... I guess this is what happens when one let their brain pick "unchecked blood vendetta and the horrors of rampant imperialism" as a theme D:... I should do my research before finding ideas... I had pretty much written everything when I noticed that Zeppelins were actually perfected right after the Victorian Era, oops D:Don't think about this too much, let's follow the rule ofsteamcool \o/
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Series: ZenoHika Week Winter 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135964
Kudos: 4





	ZenoHika Week Winter 2021 - Day 5: Heart of Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Like Day Two, Three and Four (and probably the remaining days unless I find a time extension pocket or something) this is, actually not the complete piece I intended, but... a teaser of sorts? Like, not really an extract (I may reword things) but a proof of concept, kinda?  
> Because once again I underestimated the flow of time, and only finished Day One in the given time frame aaaaaaa Yet I can't not submit anything on the day aaaaa  
> So in the meantime, have this \o/ I will come back someday (soon, or at least before we all die of old age xD) with the full piece, hopefully this can serve as a taste of the final thing?

The scalding water had been dripping along his body for a long time, tracing along his sinuous body before falling on the tiled metal floor with a clanging melody. After a while, the pipes emitted a strange gurgling noise that startled him, and the temperature of the water started dropping slightly; it seemed that the reserves of hot water on this Zeppelin were not infinite. For the umpteenth, and probably the last time, Lenn rubbed the coarse sponge on the soap -which was now a fraction of its previous size- and scoured his body with it. Already, it felt like some places had been scrubbed raw; maybe the blood that he thought he saw colouring the water was actually his, or perhaps it had been an optical illusion all along; he wasn’t even sure any more.

The soothing sound of water was, as always, the mother of all stray thoughts. He had to actively concentrate on the biting pain of his sensitized skin to chase away the images of what had transpired today -of what he had done. In the end, how far would he need to go in his quest for revenge? This question kept coming back to him, again and again. And as he finally turned off the faucet, he realized. Actually, he was already past the point of non-return: for all intents and purposes, he was now a dog of the Empire through and through, baptized in the rivers of blood of the innocents. He would never be able to wash that red away. All in the name of “bringing progress to the world” - _what a load of bullshite_ . He had met those greedy bastards back in the capital before this trip, and he was actually from their _newly discovered land_ ; all they were interested in was their profits, their personal comfort, and flaunting their own superiority, hiding behind giants of steam and steel to bully other nations “for progress”.

But who was he to judge, now. He had fought for them, killed for them; and even now, he was enjoying the comfort reserved to their elite, even on the battlefield. The lower-rank conscripts and their “enemies” alike were barely surviving, fighting over scraps of food and rancid field rations in the squalor of their decrepit tents for the first ones, or their now ravaged homes for the others; but he could even enjoy a shower and a warm meal in the lap of luxury, literally lording over them all from the safety of their aerial mother ship. If he had been able to eat it, this thought would have made keeping said warm meal down his throat a challenge. _He disgusted himself_. As he put on his clothes after drying his body, he looked in the mirror, and saw a young man, barely in his early twenties, buttoning up his uniform shirt over a lean but strong torso marred with premature scars of battle, his reddish-brown short wavy hair still dripping water on his clothes as he wore them. The tired green eyes and stern but cold face might have looked attractive with a smile, but right now… Perhaps, a few years down the line, one of those who had been orphaned today would come at him with a blade in hand, and the same dead look in the eye. And no doubt, he would have very much deserved it.

But before that happened, he needed his revenge. For his parents, his little brother, the big sister in the cave next to theirs that sometimes gave them sweet sun dried fruits, the old grandpa with his blind eyes who told them a lot of stories about the origins of the world and the gods. For the other children of the village who managed to flee with him, and like him, who trained hard for the sole purpose of avenging everyone, but were not able to make it. For the old uncle who had saved them, protected them like a father for all those years, _forged them_ , and told them to always remember whose corpses they were standing on. Before he forgot who he had been originally, and why he was here.

At least this man had to die.

* * *

Since he had finally been admitted into the service of the crown prince Zenos as his personal guard a few weeks ago, he had taken note of every single one of the man’s habits, and the related blind spots in the security. For example, when they were aboard this ship, the prince usually spent some time alone, enjoying the view from the lowermost deck after his dinner (actually, he just gazed in the distance in silence, looking as bored as usual). The place was fairly remote on the gigantic ship, and the ambient noise from the biting winds and clanking machinery made it so that any calls for help would not be heard from a distance; and if someone were to fall overboard, it would take a bit of time for people to realize they were not on the ship any more, and even if they managed to find the body along the distance travelled since their disappearance, there might not even be anything worthwhile left to identify after a fall from this altitude. The perfect crime scene. Spying his quarry at his expected spot, leaning on the guardrail while staring at the horizon, he masked his presence and approached silently under the cover of the rumbling of the steam engines.

\- “It’s a bit too early, Lenn.” A cold voice stopped him in his tracks as he was a few yalms away from his goal. _Fuck._ How in hell did that guy notice him? He hesitated for half a beat before putting his weapon away, the picture of innocence -now that he had been noticed, there was a snowball’s chance in hell he’d manage to even land a hit on the guy. After seeing him up close in battle on this recent mission, he was now very clear on the difference of strength between him and the pretty, but abnormally tall blond in front of him; in a frontal attack, he would get _destroyed_. He tried to play it cool, scratching his still damp hair.

\- “Early? I did take quite some time in the shower though”. He came closer to the Garlean, who turned to eye him fixedly. For a second, the brunet thought that he had put his clothes inside out, but nope. Why was he looking at him so intently? And that choice of words… It wasn’t that he was suspicious of him? It couldn’t be… Knowing how decisive the guy was, he would have cleaved him in two on the spot. Who would he keep someone who wanted to kill him as his personal guard? He chastised himself: if he had ruined a lifetime -no, several lifetimes combined- for just a raw impulse, he’d never forgive himself; and neither would his ghosts forgive him.

\- “Really?” Zenos extended his hand to pick at the collar of the smaller male, made slightly wet by droplets of water from his hair. “You seem impatient... _unhappy_ ”. The soldier had a hard time not to flinch at the somewhat familiar gesture, but managed to plaster an hopefully convincing smile on his face.

\- “Eh? Not at all, my liege. I’m happy to serve here!” The finger that was on this collar traced his Adam’s apple, before arriving at under his jaw and force his head up with a jerk, saying flatly:

\- “Spare me the platitudes. If I wanted a mere bootlicking dog, I wouldn’t have picked you.” Blue glaciers bore into his eyes, and he felt like no amount of clothing or armour could hide him, so he just fled, turning away to pretend to look at the passing clouds while he tried desperately to gather himself. Receiving no direct answers, one could only try to guess. “Maybe today was too much for you…” Zenos mused. “But if you can’t stomach this, then you might as well leave right now.” It was a pity, as the young guard’s eyes had shown promise, the first time they had met; but if this little was enough to shake him, then there was no way he would be able to act according to his plans later on.

Hearing this rejection, Lenn panicked. He couldn’t just give up and leave after all of this, no way. All these sacrifices, the gruelling training to be allowed to stand by his side, and what he just did -he couldn’t just leave it all go to waste. He couldn’t accept this. He turned back to the prince, almost choking on the feelings that he couldn’t let surface, and received what looked strangely like a soft comforting smile.

\- “You can freely speak your mind when it’s only the two of us”. A promise of confidence. He knew that he should keep up the charade of being a good servant of the Empire, an obedient, docile, efficient puppet of murder, until he was strong enough to retaliate. Yet, he couldn’t prevent the truth from escaping his throat:

\- “How could you do this to these poor people, in cold blood?” _Shit._ He slapped his hand to his mouth, as if to prevent himself to speak any further, yet it was _too late_ . He really had done it this time; managing to both show opposition to the orders he had received, and thus rejecting the doctrine of the Empire, and to show hostility to his direct superior, who also happened to be one of the people that were on his hit list. _Nice job. So much for keeping up the charade_ , but hey, at least he knew he didn’t become completely insensitive; perhaps they could write that on his tombstone.

In the end, the execution, or even the rebuttal he expected didn’t come. Instead, he received a counter question, on a tone that could almost pass for genuine curiosity, if not for his interlocutor’s permanent apathy:

\- “Why wouldn’t you?” He was kinda taken aback by this question. He thought it was purely rhetorical, but the intense blue orbs trailed on him seemed to demand answers. He struggled a bit to express the feeling. 

\- “That’s… basic empathy?” He wondered once more if this man was human, and not a cleverly made automaton. When he finally killed him, would his blade open wounds of oil and cogs, rather than blood and flesh? “When you see other people suffering, don’t you suffer, too?”

\- “Oh. This is because their circumstances are similar to yours… I see.” He considered the thought for a short moment, before adding: “But, you are not one of them any more. You are now on the other side of the sword. So why do you still care?”

\- “Because… They’re humans, too?” That was a given.

\- “Are you? Are we?” Lenn opened his mouth to retort, yet couldn’t; for this was the hard to swallow truth.

\- (I can’t be considered human any more.) As his newly appointed personal guard, his right hand, the closest person to him -a position he had long strived for, in order to discover a flaw, a way to finally put an end to their reign of metal and steam- he had become the same exact thing; becoming a monster to kill a monster.

As he was still reeling from this realisation, he suddenly felt a warm wall closing in behind his back, as a long arm encircled his chest, blocking his escape. He tensed immediately, one hand gripping the offending appendage, the other almost going for his concealed weapon but… he felt no hostility? Instead, the top of his head was tapped rhythmically, almost painfully at first, but more gently after he flinched from discomfort. The weird motion continued for a while, until he couldn’t hold it any more, and asked sheepishly:

\- “Your Highness, Sir… May I know what you are doing?” The movement switched from attempting to compress his neck to repeatedly smoothing, then ruffling his still damp hair in a playful manner as the taller male answered:

\- “I've been told that this is what friends do for comfort. A hug.” There was something that sounded strangely like childish smugness in his voice “You’ve never received any before?” 

\- (… What?) This… Had this guy never been hugged in his life or something? How pathetic was that... Just how in hell was he raised? And how pathetic was he _himself_ , to need to be comforted by his arch-enemy in these circumstances? 

Yet… It had been a long time since he had received a hug. Since his parent’s deaths, more than a decade ago, he never had something that felt remotely comforting. It was truly vexing, how this clumsy gesture made his nose itch, his throat choke up, and the corner of his eyes feel warm and damp. And soon, his thinner frame was wracked with silent tremors as he was held by a somewhat puzzled Garlean prince.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this brought you some entertainment \o/  
> And I hope I'll get to write the full piece before the end of this millennia...


End file.
